By Eric Sammons
Crisis Magazine
March 12, 2026
Thank you, David Ross, for inviting me to speak about a man whom everyone here loves and admires. It's an honor to be on this stage with such illustrious speakers.
Princess Maria-Anna, Ambassador Habsburg, Father Abbot, Father Matlak, other distinguished speakers, and guests, I must admit to some feeling of trepidation and intimidation in the face of speaking about Blessed Emperor Karl of Austria in the midst of his family members and other experts on his saintly life and even saintlier death. But I will count on his intercession for wise words to impart on us all today.
Many aspects of Blessed Karl's life can and should be admired.
He was an obedient child of his parents.
He was a loving husband and father.
He was the devoted head of his domestic church.
He was a courageous soldier.
He was a faithful emperor and king.
He was a saint in accepting his suffering and death.
Most people would be lucky to obtain just one of these virtues in a long life, yet he attained them all in just 34 years on this earth.
I will not detail those great virtues here today; they are well-known to so many of us already. Instead, I would like to focus on one particular aspect of Blessed Karl's life, one which is perhaps the most relevant to our times: his desire for and love of peace. He has been dubbed "The Emperor of Peace," and that he was. But I would go even further. I would argue that Blessed Emperor Karl of Austria was an "Apostle of Peace." And we in the 21st century desperately need to listen to the Gospel of Peace that Blessed Karl proclaimed in his day, as the news of this past week makes abundantly clear. In fact, I believe that his message of peace is one of the primary reasons for the Holy Spirit's work in the Church today expanding devotion to this great man of peace.
The Origins of our Bellicose Society
Most of us here recognize that Western culture-what was once Christendom-is in crisis. Society has collectively rejected God, and the effects of that repudiation cannot be underestimated. One result is that we live in an era in which wars and rumors of war abound. We must ask ourselves: how did we get here ? Why do we seem more barbarous than our European ancestors?
It's hard to truly pinpoint the historical origin of our current bellicose society. If we go back far enough, we can blame the Protestant Revolution, which tore a united Christendom apart. Or we can point fingers at the Enlightenment, which exalted man over God. And of course there's the French Revolution, during which man sought to impose those secular Enlightenment principles upon a populace through violence, and even sought to extinguish the Church from the world. All these events are factors, to be sure.
But to pinpoint the cause of our modern love of war, we must look to the second decade of the 20th century: an era in which the whole civilized world seemed collectively to lose its civilization, as well as its sanity. Most political commentators today consider World War II as the turning point in the West, but I would argue that we are all children of the 1910's and of World War I in particular.
During this era a number of giant figures controlled the world stage, from Woodrow Wilson...to David Lloyd George...to Georges Clemenceau...to Vladimir Lenin. These men, and many of the advisors who surrounded them, saw the world as a grand chess board, of which they were masters. Human suffering and misery were no consideration as they sought to reform the world according to their malformed ideals.
Onto this stage in 1916 walked a young man-only 29 years old-slight in stature and unassuming in nature, but strong of mind and soul. He was in so many ways unlike these other so-called "great" men. Most importantly, unlike them, he was a saint. And saints often have an impact far more lasting than supposed "great" men. This was of course Blessed Emperor Karl of Austria. With the exception of Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, Blessed Karl was the only sane man in a room full of the insane (and it should be noted that Tsar Nicholas has been canonized by the Russian Orthodox Church-saintliness and sanity are directly related!). As French poet Anatole France stated of Blessed Karl: "The only honest man to emerge during this war was Karl of Austria; but he was a saint and nobody listened to him."
The Realities of Modern War
What often sets apart saints is their ability to see what the rest of us can't see. They are touched with the wisdom of God, and so can perceive realities that are unclear to even the most educated and intelligent of us. This was true of Blessed Karl. He saw the reality that the world had radically changed in the 20th century, a century of technological "progress," the age of the machine. The consequences of these changes were not recognized by his contemporaries, and, even though today we live fully immersed in the world that progress created, most of us still don't grasp all its implications. Blessed Karl saw it before anyone else.
He particularly understood how a machine-dominated world would impact warfare. War is always hell, and it always represents a failure. Yet warfare-particularly European warfare after the continent had been Christianized-was much different before the 20th century. Strange to say, but it was more civilized. War, though still terrible, had boundaries which had resulted both from the political framework of the times and from the limitations of weaponry.
If one European nation wished to make war on another nation, typically it would attack the other nation's army. Eventually one side would realize it was losing and ask for a peace treaty. Civilian casualties happened, of course, but the idea of targeting civilians was both morally abhorrent, as well as militarily infeasible due to more limited weapons technology. Further, the idea of "total warfare"-fighting until the other side is completely destroyed, was also unheard of, for the same reasons: it was morally abhorrent to any Christian as well as militarily infeasible. I don't want to glamorize war of any time or place, yet it can't be denied that war was far less evil before the 20th century than after.
It's true that the Thirty Years' War and Napoleon's wars killed millions. Yet this death toll was not due to the targeting of civilians or advanced weaponry, but instead from the auxiliary consequences of warfare, such as famine and disease. There simply did not exist the ability to directly kill millions of people. And further, the political systems in place-particularly before the Protestant Revolution and then leading up to the French Revolution almost 300 years later-did not foster a desire for massive bloodshed.
At the beginning of the 20th century, however, a perfect and demonic storm arose. Now nations had the mechanized ability to unleash hell on their enemies, and the old political systems (by which I mean monarchies) were either in the distant past or incredibly weakened, to the point of collapse. Of course, no one realized this when the insanity of World War I began. Most operated under the assumptions of the past, and didn't foresee that this war-the Great War-would be like no other war in history. It would be fought with machines of incredible destruction, bringing misery and death on scales unheard of, at times in order to gain control of less than a football field of land.
And it's important to note that the treaties that contributed to the origin of this war were signed in an earlier, more civilized era, one in which coming to another country's defense didn't mean the potential total destruction of your country and an overthrow of your political system. The tragic assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand should have been relegated to a localized conflict of short duration. If the year had been 1314 instead of 1914, that is likely what would have happened. However, the great leaders of the day, without exception, instead plunged the world into a brutal and total war. What should have been a local conflict resolved in short order became a global war that destroyed a generation and changed the trajectory of Western Civilization. In fact I'd say it marked the beginning of Western Civilization's end.
A Man of Peace
Why did Blessed Karl see what no one else could see? As I said, he was a saint, and saints perceive things the rest of us don't. But grace builds on nature, and Blessed Karl was born into a family of peace. Through centuries of Habsburg reign over large parts of Europe, this family ruled differently than other kings and emperors. When disputes arose among nations, most leaders resorted to a military response: to war. But the Habsburgs responded in the exact opposite way: instead of war, they resorted to love. Particularly, married love. They formed alliances through dynastic marriages, creating a literal sacramental union between nations and peoples. There's even a saying to reflect this reality: "Others make wars, but you, happy Austria, marry."
When a Burgundian duchy became vacant in 1477, a Habsburg prince married a Burgundian princess and gained rule over all the Netherlands. Then a Habsburg duke married a Bohemian princess, and when her native Czech dynasty died out in 1526, the dukes of Austria became kings of Bohemia. The same type of dynastic marriages led to Habsburg rule over Hungary, Spain, and other dominions. All of these royal changes could have led to war; instead they were peacefully transitioned through sacramental love.
So peace was, in a very real sense, in Blessed Karl's blood. When everyone else thought war was the only option, Blessed Karl recognized the lie. And once he became emperor, he put his determination to strive for peace into action. When he came to the throne in 1916 he immediately stated, "I will do everything to banish in the shortest possible time the horrors and sacrifices of war, to win back for my peoples the sorely-missed blessings of peace, insofar as this can be reconciled with the honour of our arms, the essential living requirements of my lands and their loyal allies and the defiance of our enemies." These were more than just lofty-sounding words: they sent a clear signal to both his German allies and the opposing forces that he was serious about peace and wasn't just a vassal to German warmongering.
Then, two years later, when he renounced participation in affairs of state in November 1918, his final statement began, "Ever since my accession I have tried ceaselessly to lead my peoples out of the horrors of a war for whose inception I bear no trace of blame." Blessed Karl's reign, in other words, was bookended by a deep desire for peace.
To the warmongers - including his German allies and even many of Karl's own generals - such talk always sounded weak and compromising. Yet of course Blessed Karl didn't care; his priority wasn't pleasing German generals, it was doing all he could to end the war.
Blessed Karl didn't just speak of peace; he actively worked for it. He made many concrete attempts to end the war; doing so was always his top priority.
Soon after becoming Emperor, Blessed Karl initiated secret peace talks with the Allied forces. His brother-in-law Sixtus, a member of the French army, served as a conduit to communicate with both the French and English governments. United Kingdom Prime Minister Lloyd George was receptive to Blessed Karl's initiative, but these talks ultimately came to nothing, due to a secret agreement-unknown to Blessed Karl-that the UK and France had with Italy promising parts of the Austro-Hungarian Empire to Italy if Italy would enter the war on the Allied side.
These secret negotiations later came back to haunt Blessed Karl. When his German allies found out what he was doing, they took steps to keep the Austro-Hungarian Empire locked into the war effort.
On August 1, 1917, Pope Benedict XV published a "Peace Note," which offered a seven-point peace plan for ending the war. This peace note included many concrete suggestions-suggestions that, if followed, would have engendered a very different-and much better-post-war world. For example, he urged that the warring nations seek from each nation no payments (that is, "indemnities") for the damages and costs of the war. Further, each side should evacuate foreign territories occupied during the war.
Needless to say, the warring nations' leaders rejected this proposal out of hand. The British wanted to enforce additional stipulations on the Central Powers before even considering it; France and Italy didn't even respond. The United States under Woodrow Wilson thought it was a good opportunity to lecture the pope on American ideals. German leaders also rejected the plan. These so-called great leaders knew better than the pope.
So everyone rejected the plan-everyone, that is, except Blessed Emperor Karl, standing out again as the only sane man in a world of insanity. He wholeheartedly endorsed it.
Blessed Karl also reached out to the Americans in his efforts to achieve peace. It's likely Blessed Karl suspected this outreach would come to nothing, but he was willing to be a fool for Christ's-and peace's-sake, so he explored every avenue. He correctly recognized that Woodrow Wilson was the only figure who could potentially bring about a "peace without victory"-in other words, a peace that didn't involve the humiliation of any nation.
Blessed Karl sent Heinrich Lammasch, one of his advisors and a well-known lover of peace, to speak with Wilson Administration official George D. Herron. Blessed Karl went so far as to instruct Lammasch to express that the Austro-Hungarian Empire was willing to engage with Wilson's "Fourteen Points" as a basis for peace, including a complete re-organization of the Empire under a more federalist model, in order to satisfy Wilson's push for an American-style "self-determination." Sadly, however, President Wilson decided that the only form of "self-determination" he would accept would be the complete destruction of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Blessed Karl's efforts for peace were evident not only in the Empire's relations with other countries, but also in his internal reforms. Upon becoming Emperor, he offered a general amnesty to political prisoners, to show that he was willing to run the Empire under a different model, one more in line with the democratic spirit of the times. Likewise, he created a Ministry of Social Welfare to help those citizens of the Empire who were suffering due to the war. While this move was driven by Christian charity, it was also an effort to stave off radicalization of his people, which he knew would spur them to support war.
Working for a Just Peace
So we can be sure that Blessed Emperor Karl was committed to peace in both word and deed. Some might ask, however, "Why didn't he just end his empire's participation in the war ? If he was truly committed to peace, why not just withdraw his troops?" To answer this, we must understand more about the realities he faced, as well as what constitutes peace. Blessed Karl was pulled into a war that he himself did not initiate, yet he was charged with seeing it to a just and lasting resolution. Further, the relationship between the Austro-Hungarian Empire and his German allies was a complicated and difficult one. In many ways, Blessed Karl's empire was subservient to Germany, dependent on this ally for not only the execution of the war, but also in order to keep basic resources flowing into the Empire. The most likely result of a simple withdrawal would have been much death and misery for Blessed Karl's people—something he desperately wanted to avoid.
The Emperor said at the beginning of his reign that he wanted a peace that was "reconciled with the honour of our arms [and] the essential living requirements of my lands." A so-called peace by which the Austro-Hungarian Empire would be destroyed and her people left destitute was no peace at all, and yet it was the scenario most likely to follow total withdrawal of his troops from the fighting. After such a withdrawal, the Allies would have taken advantage of the Empire (something they in fact did when the war ended), and the Germans would have sought to punish the Austro-Hungarian Empire for what Blessed Karl had done.
Another problem with the idea of an immediate withdrawal from fighting lies in a misunderstanding of the power of an Emperor. Many moderns today—especially modern Americans—equate a monarch with a totalitarian dictator. Nothing could be further from the truth. Monarchs like Blessed Karl had power, to be sure, but it was not an absolute, totalitarian power. In fact, in many ways the office of Emperor was less powerful than the modern American presidency, in which (these days) a president can just order military incursions around the world without any support from other branches of government or from the American people. A monarch like Blessed Karl was first and foremost a father to his people; his power resided primarily in his influence over his people, not in some constitutional authority granted to him by a centuries-old document. If Blessed Karl made unilateral decisions for his empire, without any consultation with his advisors and with no support from his people, he probably would have been deposed, especially in that era in which many monarchies were being toppled. The results of events like these, he knew, would be devastating for a society.
So Blessed Karl had no choice but to continue fighting.
That being said, what made Blessed Karl stand out in particular was his willingness to achieve peace even if it meant his country had to make concessions. While he loved his Empire and defended its borders, he was also willing to negotiate with enemy forces, including making concessions of land, if it meant achieving a just peace. In other words, he didn't equate "just peace" with "getting everything I want" as so many world leaders did then and do today. It's important to note here that the war was initiated by the murder of Blessed Karl's uncle—and Archduke Franz Ferdinand was more than just Blessed Karl's uncle, he was his mentor and close friend. It would have been easy for Blessed Karl to react with anger at such a loss, seeking to punish any perceived enemies of the Empire in retaliation for his uncle's death. Yet this is not what he did. He recognized that peace was the ultimate goal, not his personal—or even his country's—gratification.
A Just War No More?
So what does this mean for us today? After all, one of the reasons the Church beatifies and canonizes certain holy men and women is to put them forward as a model for all. While we know Blessed Karl is a model for us in his personal, family, and professional life, I believe there's more: the Holy Spirit is driving the rapidly increasing devotion to this man, I propose, in order to push modern man to rethink his view of war and peace.
This is a challenge for all Catholics, but I would say it's a particular challenge for us American Catholics.
Most Catholics are familiar with the concept of a "just war," even if they don't know all the details of the teaching. Actually, the very fact that most Catholics don't know the details is the problem. Most American Catholics—at least I've found this to be true—reduce Just War Theory to "if a country attacks you, you have a right to fight back." It's essentially the idea of self-defense, but applied on a larger scale. Just War Theory is more than that, and the widespread ignorance of it has led many Catholics to support military actions that are, frankly, indefensible.
Few American Catholics know that not only does Just War Theory govern the reasons for going to war (jus ad bellum), but that it also speaks to the justice of the conduct of war (jus in bello). In other words, a nation might be justified in going to war against another nation, but that does not mean that every action taken by that nation during the war is then automatically justified, at least by Catholic moral principles. Often in today's political arguments someone will justify his country's horrific action simply by stating the equivalent of "Well, they started it." That might work on the playground, but it's not a serious Catholic moral argument.
Returning to jus ad bellum—the justification for starting a war: When we look at the criteria for going to war, we'll see very quickly that the entire justification for World War I quickly evaporates.
When can a nation legitimately engage in warfare with another country ? Catholic moral theologians have contemplated the answer for centuries. The Catechism of the Catholic Church in paragraph 2309 condenses the fruit of this contemplation into four criteria:
- the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting, grave, and certain;
- all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective;
- there must be serious prospects of success;
- the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. The power of modern means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.
Note that all four of these criteria must be in effect for the justification for war to be considered moral. Not to belabor the point, but it's clear that World War I in no way satisfied these four conditions.
I want to focus right now, however, on the sentence that can be easily missed in this list. Under the fourth criteria—the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated—the Catechism notes that "The power of modern means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition."
What does the Catechism mean here by "the power of modern means of destruction?" This is something a growing number of both moral theologians and average Catholics in the pews are starting to consider—and that Blessed Karl, I believe, saw intuitively: doesn't the radical advancement of weapons technology, from the tank to bombs to drones all the way to nuclear weapons and now AI-directed automated weapons, change the equation, so to speak, when considering whether a war is just ? Could it be that perhaps a just war is no longer even possible in the modern world ? This is something I think we Catholics must consider seriously, and that Blessed Karl's witness calls us to consider seriously.
World War I was the landscape for horrors never seen before in human history. As I've already noted, no political leader—save perhaps Blessed Karl and Tsar Nicholas—saw this coming. All the European leaders had a historic view of war, in which, yes, men suffered and died, and property was destroyed, but World War I unleashed hell—quite literally—in ways never imagined before. This became clear in the first year of the conflict, yet political leaders added to their shame by continuing the war. The proper response after witnessing what modern weaponry could do—the response of anyone with even an inkling of morality—would be to call a ceasefire, drop to your knees, put on sackcloth and ashes, and beg God for forgiveness. But of course they did not do any of this; after all, they were not the ones out fighting on the hellish battlefields of Europe.
When we skip ahead to the Second World War, the destructive power of modern warfare is even more evident. The massive yet casual bombing of civilian populations by both sides must have cried to heaven for vengeance. And, while I recognize that there will be many American Catholics—and perhaps a few in attendance today—who disagree, I must state that there was absolutely no moral justification for the American nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It is a stain on our country, and we are still living with the consequences today. One can fully support the justice of America's entry into World War II —her jus ad bellum—while recognizing the immorality of some of her conduct during the war—her jus in bello. Japan's immoral sneak attack on Pearl Harbor does not cover a multitude of American sins.
An interesting thought experiment is to consider what would have happened if the Austro-Hungarian Empire had not been dissolved and Blessed Karl had remained in power following World War I. Assuming Germany's history remained the same, the Emperor would have been only 46 when Hitler took power, and only in his early fifties when World War II began. We can't know for sure, of course, how Blessed Karl would have navigated the conflict, but we can be sure he would not have been cheering the dropping of Little Boy and Fat Man, the devilishly human-sounding names given to the bombs released on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Returning to reality, we should see clearly that the ability for a country to inflict massive damage on both property and people today with ease—an ability that did not exist before the 20th century—makes any justification for war far more tenuous, perhaps even impossible. I think Blessed Karl saw this.
Further, the execution of war has become removed from direct human conduct with the advent of technology like drones and remotely-piloted bombs. A soldier can sit in front of a computer in a comfortable chair in an air-conditioned office in the middle of Virginia and cause the death of thousands on another continent. Taking a life—or thousands or tens of thousands of lives— is as easy as playing a video game, with no fear of direct retaliation. It's hard to see how this does not violate the criteria that "the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated." The more sanitized our wars become (on our end, not on the end of those receiving the bombs, of course), the less human it becomes and the more immoral. A boundary has been removed: the God-given hesitancy to take human life—something that's always been a naturally-occurring limit on war—no longer impacts the soldier who doesn't see the people he kills.
Yearning for Peace
Sadly, in spite of our newfound ability to unleash a literal hell on our enemies—or perhaps because of it—it seems that our world is becoming more hungry for war, rather than more fearful of its consequences. Actually, I take that back. What seems apparent is that our political leaders and our elites are more hungry for war, whereas the people yearn for peace.
Looking at this century's US presidential races, we find that the candidate who campaigned more as the "peace" candidate has always won. George W. Bush was to be a "compassionate conservative" who didn't want to engage in nation-building. Barack Obama promised to end Bush's nation-building. Donald Trump in his first campaign in 2016 attacked the neoconservative hegemony in the Republican Party and promised a less interventionist foreign policy than Hillary Clinton. In 2020, well, let's just skip 2020, shall we ? Then in 2024, again Donald Trump touted peace and won easily against the more belligerent Kamala Harris. The people want peace.
Yet in each case, no matter who the people voted for, we somehow got John McCain. Our political leaders promise peace while campaigning, but once they are in power, they become beholden to the military-industrial complex President Eisenhower warned against, a complex which demands continual war to justify its existence.
Did you hear about the fight between the Pentagon and the AI company Anthropic that supplies its software ? The Pentagon demanded that Anthropic turn off the software's safety protocols so that it can use artificial intelligence any way it wants. AI companies aren't known for their morality, but Anthropic refused to do so. It didn't want its software to automate the taking of human life. Nor did it want its software to become part of a massive surveillance system. Yet our leaders, in their bloodlust for violence and control, dismissed Anthropic's concerns, stating AI software would only be used for "lawful" reasons, as if our ever-evolving laws—which they often flaunt—were a protection of citizens' rights. So last week they blacklisted Anthropic and declared that no government agency or government contractor can use its software.
Here again, Blessed Karl stands head and shoulders above so many world leaders, both of his time and since his time. He did not become drunk on the authority at his command; he did not forget the real human suffering that results when leaders arrogantly go to war for reasons that do not bear the weight of scrutiny in the light of justice.
I would also say that the clear desire for peace among the people—in contrast to the hunger for war by our leaders—is a primary reason for Blessed Karl's growing popularity. We have been let down by our leaders, time and time again. We feel increasingly powerless. Supposedly, we live in a representative democracy—we choose our leaders and they answer to us, right ? Yet when we make our choice clear on one of the most important issues of our—or any—time—war and peace—our leaders go against these clear desires. So we hunger for a new type of leader, one who puts the needs and concerns of his people first. We hunger, in other words, for another Blessed Karl. As more and more people realize this, devotion to this great man grows.
All this leads us to a significant question: is the problem with the people who are in leadership, or our system of leadership ? Is it perhaps the case that our current system of republicanism is fundamentally flawed, and that only in a monarchy can such a leader arise ? I think this is something that more and more American Catholics are also considering, and I think it's a legitimate question.
The difference between a democratically-elected leader and a hereditary monarch is like the difference between a renter and an owner. The elected leader knows he will serve for a limited period of time, after which he is not responsible for the country that was entrusted to him. The monarch, however, knows that he will not only serve for his lifetime, but will also pass on the nation to his children and his children's children. He has a far deeper investment in the long-term success of the country than the elected leader.
The elected leader has only a limited time period during which he must please the people; long-term consequences are almost irrelevant to his decision-making. He can make promises during his campaign, then, during his relatively short time in power, do whatever he wants; since in most cases, the consequences of his actions will not be felt until after he has left office. So a military action that might drop prices in the short-term is attractive, even if it will lead to decades of resentment against our country. What does he care ? The next guy will deal with those consequences—someone to whom he has no allegiance.
Of course, we all know that monarchs are no more perfect as men than elected leaders. We are all fallen, and a Blessed Karl is a rarity not only among monarchs, but among men. Yet the incentives of a monarchy are far better aligned toward long-term stability and therefore toward peace. Perhaps we need to rethink not just who we elect as our leaders, but the very system that gives us elections.
Our Challenge Today
That being said, no one here should expect a monarchy to erupt in the halls of Washington, DC any time soon. Nor will any nations give up their modern weapons. And none of us can change the course of global geopolitics. So what can we do to foster a world of peace rather than war?
Simply put, we can become like Blessed Karl.
As I already noted, Blessed Karl had peace in his blood: the Habsburgs had a long history of finding alternatives to violent conflict. But his commitment to peace started much closer to home, and it should with us as well.
First, Blessed Karl cultivated peace within himself: he practiced his Catholic Faith daily, and lived a disciplined life—one that was not controlled by his emotions, but by his will. A will conformed to the will of God.
Second, Blessed Karl cultivated peace in his family. His virtues as a husband and father are well-known to us all, but we must recognize that this laid the foundations for how he interacted with others, even on an international level. The husband who doesn't sacrifice himself for his wife, as Christ sacrificed himself for his bride, the Church; and the father who doesn't put the needs of his children first, before his own wants and desires—that man isn't going to be a successful advocate for peace in the world.
Third, Blessed Karl cultivated peace by being a true patriot. Although the supporters of war are often the ones who most loudly proclaim their love for their country, true patriotism means a desire for your country's good. It does not require that good at the expense of another country. A country that engages in an unjust war is only harming itself, no matter what military victories it might achieve.
The life of Blessed Karl and his commitment to peace, then, challenges American Catholics in more ways than one.
He makes us take a hard look at the pain and suffering caused by war.
He makes us ask whether war is ever justified in the modern world.
He makes us question not only the opposing political party, but also our own political party, and even whether we should have political parties in the first place.
He makes us examine our own lives as to whether we are true peacemakers in our state of life.
Like all the great saints, Blessed Karl leads us to look deeper at the issues we face today, and consider alternatives that may challenge our suppositions.
Ultimately, Blessed Karl calls us, first and foremost, to sanctity. Saint Josemaría Escrivá once stated, "These world crises are crises of saints." In other words, what the world needs to be more peaceful is more saints. And this is where we come in: by striving for sainthood, we cultivate and spread peace, just as Blessed Karl did.
In the first century, 12 apostles travelled the Roman Empire preaching a radically new message. Romans had come to believe that their military power was the source of peace and stability, but these twelve men upended that worldview with the message of a Prince of Peace who conquers not by military might but by love. Likewise today, Blessed Karl, Apostle of Peace, confronts our faith in worldly power and military might.
May we all listen to his message, and help spread peace in a world that desperately needs it.
May Blessed Karl intercede for us.
Thank you and God bless you.